An Angel in the Bedroom
by rootesie
Summary: Jack's organised the Christmas entertainment for Ianto, but it isn't quite what Ianto fears... Set sometime during the first half of Season Two, but no spoilers. Rated M for m/m sexual situation. N.B. Can be read as a standalone.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** m/m sexual situation

**Disclaimer:** All these wonderful characters don't belong to me, which is a crying shame because I'd have treated them a hell of a lot better than RTD and the Beeb did.

**Author's note:** WIP, but should be finished by New Year. Can be read as a standalone anyway!

**An Angel in the Bedroom**

**14****th ****December,** **10.30 am**

Pouring the coffee into everyone's mugs and arranging the biscuits on a plate, Ianto does his best to tune out the sound of Gwen and Owen's pointless bickering.

"It was my turn to drive, Owen. Just because you got there first doesn't give you dibs. We worked out a system, remember? When Jack was away?"

"No, Gwen, _you_ worked out a system and just expected everyone to go along with it. Anyway, you drive like a little old lady. We'd probably have missed picking these things up before some junkie ran off with them if we'd had to wait for you to give way to every other bloody road user."

Putting down Owen's mug and trying to avoid the flailing arms as he demonstrates Gwen waving someone out at a junction, Ianto takes a look at the latest bit of alien tech to fall through the rift. Sitting in the centre of the boardroom table where Owen has just flung them, are two large rings of a shimmery, golden material. They look to be about twelve inches in diameter, and have no obvious use but are definitely alien. There's that swirling iridescence to the surface that gives them away as being not from this planet. Or at least, not from this time...

Thinking of things out of their time, he glances up at Jack, catching an expression of naked hunger as he stares at the rings. Ianto recognises that look, and knows to be wary of it. It promises some sort of new experience that will push his boundaries and test his limits. But he likes a challenge, after all. Catching Jack's eye and raising a quizzical eyebrow, he's disappointed with the reaction. Suddenly Jack's all business again, wearing that long-suffering boss face that sometimes makes Ianto want to slap him. But in a good way, usually...

"Right children, that's enough whining for one morning, thank you," Jack orders, standing up to lean forward and pull the rings over to him. "Ianto, I'm going to need you to lock these up in the secure archives. They're definitely not something we want falling into the wrong hands."

Ianto nods as he sets down Jack's coffee and accepts the rings. They're much lighter than he expected, and the material feels warm and slightly yielding to the touch. He sits down at Jack's right hand, the rings on the table before him.

"What are they then, Jack? We thought they were some kind of jewelry. A nice tiara or something," Gwen enquires.

"No, you thought that, Ms Bling. I thought they were some sort of device that probably shouldn't be messed with before we got safely back to the Hub, remember? Definitely not something you should put on your head and then admire yourself in the mirror like some stuck-up princess." Gwen shoots Owen an evil look which he returns with interest.

Ianto sighs, predicting yet another day of having to dodge their badly aimed missiles and being used as a mediator whether he likes it or not. Still, at least he can escape to the archives or the Tourist Office. He looks up at Tosh, trying to catch her eye and roll his in solidarity, but she's focused on the new tech with that intent gaze that seems to tune out everything but the object of her attention.

"What are they, Jack? I don't think I've seen this material before. I'd like to be able to run a few tests on it if that's okay," she begins.

"No Toshiko, that is most definitely not okay. These things are one of the most efficient and effective torture devices in the known universe. They're getting locked away and that's that." He's using his best "don't question me" voice, that Ianto has noticed only Gwen ever seems to ignore.

"What are they, Jack? How do they work? It felt really weird when I put it on my head. Like it was tightening and moulding itself to my skull. It didn't hurt, though."

Jack takes a long sip of coffee, looking down at his notes and seemingly doing his best to avoid answering Gwen. When he looks up again, Ianto observes him glance around at each of them, before sighing deeply and rolling his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Okay, okay. They're called Myjiaani Crowns and they're fiendishly sophisticated things. They were banned on all civilised worlds and the Myjianni were forced to stop making them. They work by allowing the torturer to loop and repeat sensations in the body of the victim." Jack fixes them all with his gaze, one by one, as he makes his point. "So, for example, you could give someone a Chinese burn, and the pain would be repeated on whatever time loop you chose. Then you could add in a pinch somewhere sensitive, repeat that too, and so on until their whole body was awash with pain. Believe me, it's one of the worst ways to be tortured. Like having a whole army of sadists at work on you all at once." And again, there's a glint in his eye as he glances over at Ianto, completing his sweep of the table. Ianto feels himself shudder as he remembers the hints he's been given of Jack's past experiences of torture, both on the giving and receiving ends.

"So what do you do with them?" Owen asks, sounding intrigued. "How exactly do they work? Is it some kind of bio-feedback loop?"

"And that's quite enough of this question and answer session. Now, how is that clever little rift-predicting programme coming along, Toshiko?" Jack manages to keep the subject off the Crowns for the rest of the meeting, steering them through a particularly boring agenda of paperwork required by governmental departments and new Health and Safety procedures that have them all groaning.

"Jack, it's nearly Christmas! Give us a break. I've got all these parties to go to, and the girls are well up for it with a bit of Christmas spirit inside them. I'm planning on being hungover for the next three weeks. In fact, can I book a sickie for New Year's Day now, just to be on the safe side." Owen's grin fades as he looks around at his stony faced colleagues.

"Right, you've just reminded me, Owen, the Christmas rota! You, as you've just booked New Year off, will be manning the Hub on Christmas Day with Toshiko. Ianto and I will handle Boxing Day, so that Gwen can do the family thing on behalf of all of us."

Ianto glares at Gwen, currently doing her smug-but-trying-really-hard-not-to-show-it face, and making eyes at Jack. Tosh just nods, accepting her shift without any argument.

"But I had plans for Christmas Day," Owen complains. "Couldn't Ianto do it instead?"

"No he couldn't. Ianto has plans."

"I do, sir?"

"Yes, Ianto, you do. You're going to be making me a slap-up Christmas dinner. I'll bring round the entertainments." Jack's smile is wolfish, and Ianto becomes uncomfortably aware of the rest of the team eyeing him with unconcealed interest. He's conscious of a blush creeping up his neck, but at the same time thrilled to think that Jack wants to spend Christmas Day with him, doing, well, couple-y things. Whatever Jack's ideas of entertainments might be. Somehow he has a feeling that it's not going to be a DVD of _It's a Wonderful Life_ or a game of Scrabble...

"Right," he announces, rising quickly and picking up the torture devices. "I'll just get these locked away then, sir." He exits the room as quickly as possible, eager to escape any teasing questions from Gwen and Tosh, or any outpourings of scorn from Owen.

But walking down the corridor, there's a spring in his step. Christmas Day with Jack... Whatever he's planning, it's bound to be fun.

*****

**25th December, 12.15pm**

It's a typical Christmas Day in Cardiff: an icy wind driving cruel rain under umbrellas and into any chinks in your clothing. Jack huddles inside his greatcoat, wishing he'd had the foresight to wear a proper hat rather than the soggy polyester Father Christmas hat he'd bought on a whim. Still, he can't help but grin as he anticipates the impending meal with Ianto, and the after-dinner activity he has planned. He clutches the bag to his chest as he rounds the corner into Ianto's street, hoping its bulk might help keep out the cold draught currently finding its way through the gaps between his buttons. They've already agreed that they won't be getting each other any presents, that just spending the day together will be enough. But he still can't help but think of the contents of the bag as a gift for Ianto. Because he'll be the one getting the benefit of them... for today at least.

*****

The door opens inwards, revealing a vision of Ianto in a stripy blue and white apron with yellow marigolds covered in suds. Jack has to hand it to him: Ianto can even make washing-up look sexy.

"You're early," Ianto states sternly, the slight lifting of his eyebrow letting Jack know that he's not in too much trouble for it. "I'm right in the middle of cooking, you know."

"Well, that's hardly a warm Christmassy welcome, is it?" Jack pouts, pulling out a handy sprig of mistletoe from his pocket and pursing his lips. He watches Ianto struggle to maintain his resolve, obviously losing the fight as his lips start twitching and his eyes twinkle.

"Nice hat, by the way. Who are you supposed to be? Captain Christmas?"

And then Ianto's all over him, pulling his head close with his rubber-sheathed hands and kissing him deeply, slamming him back against the door which closes behind him, almost knocking them both off balance. Ianto kisses fiercely, letting Jack feel his teeth and pressing into him with his whole body. Abandoning himself to the heady rush, Jack grabs Ianto's bum with both hands, pulling him closer, tighter. He grinds his hips into Ianto, relishing the sensation of the tongue greedily exploring his mouth, the teeth on his lower lip, the soapy rubber gloves grasping the nape of his neck, the squeezable flesh in his hands.

Ianto breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead into Jack's, his breathing ragged. "Was that warm enough for you?"

"Mmmm, postively scorching!"

It would be so easy right now for him to push Ianto back against the wall and start stripping him bare, using all of his tricks to make him forget about the dinner in the oven, to forget everything except the movements of Jack's hands and body, his lips and tongue. It's a tempting prospect, but when a waft of air from the kitchen tickles his nose with the aroma of cooking turkey, Jack realises just how hungry he is. And not just for the chef.

A bubbling, hissing sound causes them both to look around to the open kitchen door.

"Oh shit, the potatoes!" And Ianto scurries away, Jack following at a leisurely pace, feasting his eyes on the denim clad arse as it moves. Watching Ianto fumble with the pan lid, cursing under his breath, he realises he's never seen him so stressed about a task. The kitchen is so hot and steamy that sweat has started to run down his forehead and his stray locks of hair are even curlier than usual.

"Ianto, don't worry about it. I don't really mind what we eat today. Whatever you make its going to be better than last year's Christmas lunch, believe me." Last year's being cold left-over ham and pineapple pizza. In the Hub. Alone.

"You say that after I've spent all morning slaving away over turkey with all the trimmings? I had to stick my hand up its arse and stuff it, which isn't nearly as much fun as you're thinking," Ianto adds as Jack smirks openly. "Why don't you just pretend to be like a normal person and go into the lounge and have a drink. There's all sorts of dodgy looking liqueurs on the table. I'll be another forty minutes or so and then we should be ready to eat."

Pulling out his stopwatch and turning back to the array of bubbling pans, Ianto misses the effect on Jack at the appearance of that favourite toy. Jack groans, adjusting his trousers which have suddenly grown somewhat restrictive and uncomfortable. He tries to sneak up on Ianto, reaching out for another grope of that tempting rear, but finds himself rumbled as Ianto whirls around and grabs hold of his shoulders, propelling him towards the lounge door with some force.

"No harassing the cook! At least, not until after the meal. Now be a good boy and sit," this last word emphasised with a resounding slap to Jack's backside.

*****

Sitting on the sofa and observing Ianto carefully as he unwraps the "entertainments", Jack has to stifle a chuckle. Normally so guarded, Ianto lets every fleeting emotion play across his face: the smile of childish excitement when given the carefully wrapped parcel; the doubtful frown as he feels its weight and shape; the furrowed brow as he fastidiously peels back the sellotape so as not to damage the paper; the dark-eyed glee with which he opens the paper; the raised eyebrows and open mouth with which he greets the contents...

"Jack? You know I'm willing to give most things a try..."

"It's one of my favourite things about you," Jack smirks, remembering some of his more avant garde suggestions that Ianto has eagerly played along with. And a few games of Ianto's own devising that managed to surprise him; no mean feat for a man with Jack's many years of experience.

But now Ianto's looking at him with wide blue eyes, concern etched into his face. It probably isn't fair to put him through this, but hey, he's got quite a treat coming his way.

"I just... I mean, couldn't we just do something a bit less adventurous? I really don't want to be tortured. Especially not after a big dinner."

"Ianto, do you trust me?" A nod. Somewhat reluctant, but still a nod. "Do you remember what I told you about what these things do?"

Ianto looks down at the two rings in his lap. "You said they looped and repeated painful sensations."

"Almost. Try to remember my exact words."

Jack can barely hold back a chuckle as he watches Ianto's frown of concentration transform as surprise takes over.

"Oh... you never actually said painful, did you?" Jack can almost see the workings of Ianto's quick mind as he realises the potential of the crowns. His eyes grow darker and he gulps, signs that always promise good things.

"You see, they were never intended as torture devices by their creators. And they were devastated when they found out that people were using them in that way. What these things were intended for," he purrs, shifting closer to Ianto and encircling his shoulders with one arm, using the other hand to squeeze his thigh, "What they're really made for, is pleasure."

"So, ah... How do they work then?"

"Well," Jack takes one of the crowns and sweeping Ianto's hair back off his forehead, lowers in gently in place, smiling at his lover's reaction to the sensation of the metal shaping itself to his head. "We both have to wear one of these things. Actually, that's kinda cute on you."

Ianto leaps up to look in the mirror over the fire. "Oh god, I look like something out of Lord of the Rings. It's ridiculous."

Standing up next to him, Jack grins at their reflections. "I don't know. I reckon we look pretty festive. Like angels. Just think of them as haloes."

"So long as were not bloody fairies," Ianto grumbles. "Or princesses. I feel this is a slur on my masculinity."

"Says the man who not long ago was wearing frilly knickers!"

"Just 'cause you made me as a forfeit. And I swear you cheated the stopwatch that time. There's no way you could have lasted that long."

"Nonsense," Jack murmurs, resting a hand on that delectable arse and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You enjoyed them just as much as I did." As a vision of Ianto in red lacy knickers swims before Jack's eyes, he feels himself growing excited again. But it's not the time for him to be enjoying himself. This is all about Ianto today. All about introducing him to new and unexpected voluptuary delights. And besides, he knows that the sight of Ianto losing control of himself under his expert ministrations will be incendiary. It always is.

"So anyway," Jack starts, steering Ianto back to the sofa and pushing him down, then settling down on his knees between the open thighs. "What I have to do is set my crown to be the master and yours to be the slave." He pushes a few buttons on his Vortex Manipulator and nods, satisfied. "Then the fun can really begin."

"And what do I need to do?" Ianto's voice is husky, and despite his relaxed, nonchalant pose, Jack can tell how aroused he is by the bulge in his jeans and the quickening of his breath.

"Well first, you just need to sit there and let me undress you," Jack starts working on the shirt buttons with a salacious grin, his eyes locked on Ianto's the whole time. "And then," untucking the shirt and pushing it down off his shoulders, "you need to lie back and let me give you the most incredible experience of your life so far." Working on the button fly of the jeans, Jack lets his breath tease the exposed skin, sending tremors through his lover's body and further stiffening the erection his knuckles are brushing against. Ianto's eyes are midnight pools, a flush already creeping across his cheeks and Jack hasn't even started using the crowns yet.

"Aren't you going to get undressed too?" Ianto asks, raising his hips to let Jack pull down his jeans and boxers. "I want to see you naked."

"Always happy to oblige," Jack smirks, pulling Ianto's jeans, pants and socks off before quickly stripping himself. He looks up as he steps out of his trousers, and catches Ianto licking his lips as he stares at his crotch. Looking down himself, he realises he's already fully hardened and they haven't even got going yet. He grins back at Ianto, before sinking to his knees again between those lithe and supple legs. "There'll be plenty of time to deal with that later. For now, this is all about you." He leans in for a kiss, which Ianto meets eagerly, hooking an arm around his torso to pull him in tight. Their tongues move hungrily, mirroring the motion in their bodies as their cocks rub together, sending delicious twinges of pleasure through Jack's body.

Jack has to pull back, panting; smiling at the frustrated pout on Ianto's adorable face. "Oh no, you need to wait and see what these things can do first. Now, I'm going to start teasing you all over, and I'm going to loop the sensations until it feels like you have a whole roomful of lovers working you with their lips and fingers and tongues. Until every part of your body is on fire and you're begging me to stop because it's all too much to handle. What do you think?" He challenges, gazing into those big black eyes. "Are you ready to have an army of Jacks making love to you all at once?"

Ianto's shuddering moan is all the answer he needs, and Jack begins at once, using his mind to tell the crown to start recording as he lifts Ianto's foot and begins to suck his big toe. He can feel the tremors of Ianto fighting the urge to kick as he delves his tongue into the gap between his big and first toes, then moves across, paying attention to every last toe and gently teasing them with his teeth. Then he silently instructs the loop to close, and, gazes locked, releases Ianto's toes.

There is a sharp intake of breath as Ianto has his first taste of the feedback loop. "Oh god... that's incredible. Feels just like you're still doing it."

"That's the idea. You'll notice it only loops what I'm doing to you, so you won't get uncomfortable sofa cushions or the pain of biting your own lip looped back to you." Jack lifts the other foot, and can't help a smug grin as he teases Ianto by breathing on his instep. "Want some more?"

"Fuck, yes. More!" And Jack obliges, sucking, nibbling and licking his way across the row of toes before closing the second loop. By now Ianto has closed his eyes, and from the way he's biting his lower lip Jack can tell that he's trying to keep himself in check.

"Just let go and feel it, Ianto. Once the loops are started there's no way of stopping them, bar orgasm or passing out. You may as well just enjoy it."

"Feels amazing... so fucking good..."

"And I've barely begun!" Taking advantage of Ianto's temporary blindness, Jack surprises him by leaning in and nibbling his earlobe, sucking gently and breathing on the wet skin before closing another loop.

"Uhhh..." Ianto shudders, his hands gripping Jack's biceps with some force. Gently loosening the clenched fingers, Jack sucks two of them deep into his mouth, swilling around them with his tongue and then swallowing. Another loop completed, then he does the same with the other hand. Ianto's breathing is now coming in gasps, and he fists his hands down into the sofa, as if trying to distract himself from the sensations. Jack grabs hold of the closest hand, slowly unfurling the fingers to reveal the sweat slicked palm. He tastes with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the salty flavour, describing a lazy circle before moving up the wrist, sucking softly over the pulse point and chuckling at Ianto's strangled groan. Slowly, but relentlessly, he licks his way up Ianto's arm, closing the loop when he reaches the collarbone and repeating the sequence with the other arm.

Pausing for a moment, he rests his head against Ianto's heaving chest, enjoying the touch of rough, sweat-dampened hair against his cheek. Of pulsing life beneath him. Of this sweet connection with another human that makes his peculiar existence worthwhile. When he lifts his head again he finds Ianto staring at him with lust glazed eyes, cheeks flushed and his hair dishevelled. God, he looks so fucking hot like that. And he's the only one who ever gets to see him that way.

"More?" he rasps, voice roughened by the swell of emotions and overwhelming desire. And when Ianto nods, still biting his lip, he has to restrain himself from just pulling him to the edge of the sofa and fucking him senseless. Digging his cock into the rough side of the sofa he tries to distract himself by attacking one of Ianto's nipples, sucking somewhat harder than he intends to and drawing a sharp intake of breath from his lover. Remembering how unbearable any painful sensations can become when they're looped over and over, he takes time to lick gently and breath on the sensitized skin before closing the loop again. Immediately he hears Ianto hiss as the loop begins, and berates himself for being too rough. He treats the other nipple with more care, and although he can tell when the first loop begins again by the way Ianto's body jerks underneath him, at least there's no more hissing.

Time for a more gentle approach. Running his fingertips in a soft caress up Ianto's calf; up the inner thigh; feeling his legs twitch and quiver as he reaches the top and ghosts his fingers in the crease between thigh and groin. Tracing teasing circles around the edge of the wiry hair, never touching where Ianto obviously wants him to, judging by the needy, frustrated whimpering. Loop closed, the other leg follows, and this time the trembling is so pronounced that he halts his teasing, giving Ianto a moment to get used to the new loops before adding anything else. He watches Ianto's reaction: his head arched back, mouth open, breathing ragged, body writhing in wanton glory as he succumbs to the overwhelming onslaught of sensations. A drop of pre-cum glistens at the head of his cock, and Jack can't resist taking a swipe with his tongue, relishing that unique flavour of his lover. Ianto bucks his hips, shuddering gasps shaking his body. So close to the edge.

And he's just about to finish him off by taking his cock fully into his mouth when Ianto grabs his head, fists rough in his hair, and pulls Jack higher and closer, leaning forward so that their bodies press together as their mouths meet. It's an open mouthed, messy kiss. A tangle of frenzied tongues and clashing teeth as Ianto jerks against him erratically, pulling away to gasp "Jack!" and convulsing, spilling himself between them. Waiting for the aftershocks to subside, Jack hugs his trembling lover closer. Feeling warm... Feeling cosy... Feeling damn horny still, if truth be told.

Ianto falls back, pulling Jack with him. He lifts his head to drink in the sight of Ianto; the afterglow giving his face an enchanting radiance, his expression blissful, sated. The crown lending him an otherworldly glamour.

"That was incredible," Ianto whispers, a contented grin curving his lips. "But what about you?" His fingers find their way around Jack's painfully stiff cock, stroking gently, lazily. It's not the right kind of touch in his present state, and he closes his hand over Ianto's, pulling harder, faster, twisting and thrusting his hips until he orgasms with a groan. Watching as his cum spurts out over his lover's chest. Staring into his deep, dark eyes.

Collapsing into their slippery, mingled fluids, Jack groans again, then raises his eyebrows as he meets Ianto's mischievous gaze.

"What is it?"

"You're going to have to teach me how to use these things," touching the crown on Jack's head. "I want to be able to do that for you. Got a few ideas of how to spice it up for you as well."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

"Tomorrow."

"We'll be at work."

"Since when has that ever stopped us?"

"Good point. Tomorrow then. Now get your heavy arse off me and lets have a shower."

"Mmmm... sounds good!"

"It will be."

And they kiss: slowly and deeply, as Jack tries to put everything he feels for this incredible man into the movements of his tongue, lips and teeth, the caress of his hands on Ianto's neck. And he must be understood, because when their eyes meet again there is something else in Ianto's. A glimmer signifying more than just sexual attraction. A gift for Jack. One he accepts freely. Returns silently.

"Come on, sexy, let's go shower."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Tease in the Office**

**26****th**** December,** **2.30 pm**

"That's it. Just go slow and gentle to begin with. And then just think _close and repeat_, while concentrating on the touch you want repeated. Well? Did it work?"

Ianto opens his eyes somewhat reluctantly. There's something strangely embarrassing about caressing himself so gently in front of Jack. Especially sitting in Jack's office, during a working day, even though he knows the chances of anyone voluntarily turning up to work on Boxing Day are nil. And despite the countless times he's wanked in front of Jack; and all he's done so far is to run a fingernail up his arm from wrist to elbow. It doesn't help that he's stark bollock naked while Jack remains fully clothed, seated behind his desk in a position that screams "in charge" as he steeples his fingers. But Jack's encouraging nod helps him to relax a little, increasing his ability to focus on the ghostly sensation of his fingernail running over his skin again and again.

"Yeah, it's working." He breathes deeply, trying to decide where to go next. This wasn't like having a wank. Jack had warned him enough times: anything too fast and furious would be unbearable after a few repeats, and then there was no way to end it bar orgasm or passing out. Still, he has to do something else, because otherwise that fingernail sweep will get quite irritating. He's still a bit annoyed at Jack's insistence on practising it on himself first, but he'd been utterly inflexible about that, claiming to have learnt control of the technique on himself before ever daring to use it on anyone else.

"Try licking yourself," Jack suggests with a leer, making Ianto roll his eyes.

"I'm pretty limited as to where I can lick myself, Jack. I'm not a contortionist, you know."

"Oh, I don't know, you're pretty flexible. I've managed to bend you into some fairly challenging positions before." Jack's voice purrs as he shifts in his chair, and Ianto can tell that the memories are getting him excited even though he can't see below Jack's waist. Looking at Jack's desk between them, he is accosted by a sudden vision of one of those athletic sessions involving that very piece of furniture, and the memory sends tremors through his body. He feels his cock start to harden, and a wicked plan springs fully formed into his mind.

"Jack? You promise me you'll stay that side of the desk and let me do this all by myself?"

"Of course!" Jack sounds indignant, but Ianto knows him far too well. Much as he loves watching, Jack finds it hard to resist getting involved in the action.

"Oh yeah," Ianto smirks, one eyebrow raised. "And since you're meant to be my instructor you'll need to keep a clear head, so no touching yourself either."

The look of dismay on Jack's face is priceless, and he finds it hard not to grin as slowly and deliberately he lifts his right hand to his mouth, observing Jack's reactions all the time. He licks his lips, thinking _open loop_, then pushes his middle finger between them, right up to the base. Hollowing his cheeks as he sucks, quietly moaning, Ianto watches Jack's eyes darken and his posture shift. The last vestige of embarrassment melts away as he spots him surreptitiously lick his own lips. Good, let's make him squirm. Put on a proper show for the Captain. He pulls his finger out and strokes it down over his chin, dragging on his lower lip and leaving a saliva trail over his neck right down to the hollow in his collarbone. Closing that loop he starts another, licking both his index fingers and thumbs with blatant swipes of his tongue, thoroughly wetting them before reaching down to his chest and using his slippery fingertips to circle round and over the rapidly hardening nipples. Letting out a lewd groan as he does so, he's gratified to hear it echoed by Jack who has collapsed back into his chair and has his hands clenched around the armrests.

"Ahhh, remember to go easy on yourself there... Oh god!" Jack gasps as Ianto tweaks his nipples with a flamboyant flourish, smirking and fluttering his eyelashes as he closes the loop.

The layers of sensations in his fingertips make him pause for a moment, and Ianto finds he has to concentrate hard to control his breathing. It feels like someone's finger is in his mouth, pressing against his tongue and palate, that somebody else is licking his fingertips, then running a slick finger down his neck as another phantom lover teases his nipples. The thought of being caressed by so many different sets of hands and mouths is electric, sending a bolt of pleasure sizzling down his spine and straight to his balls. His eyes spring open, and he focuses hard on the desk top to try and dispel the illusion.

"Are you alright, Ianto? Not getting too much for you already, is it?"

"I'm fine, just, ah, choosing a toy," Ianto fumbles for the nearest implement which happens to be Jack's fountain pen. The metal end is smooth and rounded, and looks about as good as anything else he can imagine stroking himself with. Should he even be thinking about starting another loop when he wants to last long enough to work Jack into a frustrated frenzy? But then again, it's useful practice, and judging by the audible breathing, Jack's already highly aroused.

And so he lowers the end of the pen to his navel and starts describing slow, graceful spirals, working their way out until they brush his pubic hair. The metal is cold at first, but the heat of his skin soon warms it, and the almost frictionless glide of the smooth surface is surprisingly pleasant. The sensations in his fingertips are just about bearable if he focuses on the touch of the pen, shutting out everything else.

Looking down at himself, he is amazed to see a drop of pre-cum beading at the end of his cock. Fuck, how did he manage to get himself so turned on without even touching there? He closes the loop and places the pen back on the desk top, checking on Jack at the same time. His knuckles are white where he's gripping the chair, and Ianto notices the minute squirming movements that he's probably doing his best to suppress. Locking eyes, Ianto grins, winks, holds up his right index finger and then lowers it, slowly but steadily, down to his cock. Jack's eyes follow the finger, mesmerised, as he strokes up the slit, collecting the drop as it starts to fall. Then raising his finger at the same pace, opening his mouth and licking up the salty fluid.

"Oh fuck, Ianto! You don't know what you're doing to me!"

"I've got a fairly good idea -"

And then that familiar, dreaded sound starts up. Bloody Rift Alarm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Jack growls, pawing at his wrist-strap and checking the readout. "Whatever it is, it's fairly big and it's come through in the middle of an industrial estate in Penarth. Should be deserted today."

They stare at each other, and this is usually when they have a silent (or not so silent) conversation about whether either of them is past the point of no return, and whether it would be quicker to see it through rather than have to calm down. Having a hard on can really slow you down in responding to Rift alerts.

"Well, I can't stop. You said orgasm or passing out, right?"

"That's right."

"And we can't just take the crown off me to stop it?"

"It'll still transmit. We could destroy it, but it would be such a waste."

So Ianto fists his cock and starts pumping.

"Stop that!" Jack cries, leaping out of his chair and rounding the desk, pushing Ianto's chair back and grabbing his arm. Ianto stares at him, amazed.

"Jack, I've got to deal with this. You'll be alright."

"I won't. I need you. Now!" Jack insists, his voice deep and husky. "Please?"

And then Ianto sees that glimmer in his eyes again, that certain something that makes him feel like more than just a part-time shag, more than just a "friend with benefits". His resolve softens, melts away in the heat of that gaze.

"Please, Ianto? I won't last long, I promise."

"Great line. I bet that's not what you tell all the others."

"What others?" Jack cups his chin and and gives him a searching look. "Ianto, you do know, don't you? There are no others. Haven't been since I got back."

And since the words are backed up with that gaze, that gentle touch to his jaw, and because it's what he really wants to believe, what he really wants to do, Ianto chooses to ignore the insistent beeping of the alarm. Chooses to pull Jack into a hasty, sloppy kiss - still confused by the multiple sensations in his mouth - before turning around and leaning over the desk, raising his arse, spreading his legs, bracing himself with his hands.

"Come on then. Hurry up and fuck me before I change my mind!"

There's a frenzied clatter as Jack searches one of his desk drawers, followed by a satisfied grunt; and then he's there, behind him. A fumbling of buttons and braces, and a ripping sound as the sachet tears. And then that pressure he craves, digging into him, breaching the tight ring of muscle. Forcing a gasp as he realises that Jack's not even going to bother preparing him, just pushing on in with his thick, hard cock. But it's okay, more than okay, because he wants this. Wants to be filled with Jack's heat, to feel nothing more than that; his lover's hands digging into his hips and the hard desk against his chest and cheek as he leans down. Wants to cancel out the ghosts of his fingers and the pen drawing their lines over his body. And then Jack's all the way in, pausing, and it's both too much and not enough. He pushes back into him, hoping for more. Needing more.

"Do it. Hard." He gasps, voice cracking. Feeling Jack slide out slowly before slamming back into him, picking up the pace until the world contracts to the thrusting of hips, panting of breath and rhythmic slapping. His whole attention is absorbed by the exquisite chafing as Jack's cock slides over his prostate relentlessly. But as Jack's rhythm grows erratic, his breathing ragged, Ianto feels a hand grasp his dick and pull roughly. Once, twice...

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh Jack!" And then it's upon him, the white heat of orgasm pulsing through his body, taking him over. He's barely aware of Jack twitching inside him, riding out his own climax moments later with a series of incoherent grunts.

Returning to reality, Ianto pushes himself up on wobbly arms. Feels Jack slipping from him, and turns.

"Hey," he smiles, wondering how Jack can manage to look so normal, just the slight flush in his cheeks and the fact he's doing up his fly to give him away. Whereas Ianto feels like a sticky, sweaty, slippery mess; aching and bruised but in the best possible way. He pulls the crown off his head, relieved to be free of the phantom fingers, and is about to find some wipes and his clothes when Jack pulls him into a hug.

"Thanks," Jack mutters into his hair, his breath teasing his ear.

"S'alright. My pleasure. Now..." feeling those hands slide down his back and cup his buttocks. "Hadn't we better be getting to Penarth? Save those good folk from the alien menace on their doorstep?"

"Mmmm..." Jack hummed contentedly. "You're a hard taskmaster, Mr Jones."

"And you're a terrible influence on me. That alarm's still beeping, you know."

"So it is," Jack pulls his head back, looking at him with such affection that he feels a blush spread across his cheeks. It really doesn't help that he's the one with no clothes on. And then Jack leans in for a kiss; slow and tender and everything that shag hadn't been.

"Come on then. Better get yourself dressed, unless you want to distract me on the drive over." Jack squeezes Ianto's arse, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You're insatiable, Harkness."

"It's one of my best qualities."

"So you think."

"Tell me: what are my best qualities, then?"

"There's a time and a place, Jack, and this is definitely not it."

"Spoilsport." And Ianto pulls away in search of his clothing, thinking of all the things he loves about this man and will probably never tell him. But he'll show him. He glances at the crown on the table. A time and a place. New Year's Eve? A smile spreads across his face. Oh yeah, that will work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings for this chapter:** BDSM (but quite fluffy), M/m sex, mentions of torture but nothing graphic.

**A Demon in the Basement**

**31****st**** December, 10.55 pm**

"Right, now keep those eyes closed, and no peeking until I say so, and no questions either!" Ianto sounds stern, and Jack is quick to obey. Fun though it is to wind his lover up when he's taking charge, it can be even more rewarding to comply; and after all the mysterious hints Ianto's been dropping, Jack's expecting something quite special. He doesn't even know what level of the Hub they're on, as Ianto used his wicked tongue to keep him pleasantly distracted in the lift. He hadn't stood a chance.

He feels Ianto's hand brushing his, and instinctively laces fingers with him, letting himself be led out of the lift and along the echoing corridor. Really, it's about bloody time the two of them had a bit of peace and quiet together. In fact, the peace and quiet doesn't matter all that much - Jack will quite happily settle for noisy wrestling - but it's always lovely to follow that with some down time. Precious time to just lie in each others' arms, talking lazily; burying his head in Ianto's hair and inhaling that wonderful fragrance that makes him feel like he's come home. Maybe it's about time he told him how much he...

Jack shakes his head. God, he's getting sentimental in his old age. Must be an effect of Ianto having been so busy this last week. Every time he's tried to pin him down for some good, old-fashioned snuggling, the man's gone dancing off - claiming to need to get back to his flat for various lame reasons - and he hasn't been invited, no matter how many unsubtle hints he's dropped. If it hadn't been for the outstanding blow jobs he's been getting every morning when Ianto arrives for work - a good half an hour before the others - then he'd be really pissed off. As it is, he's just fairly frustrated, horribly horny and really looking forward to his New Year's treat. Whatever that might be. And no matter how loud the Rift alarm sounds, tonight it will be ignored. It's usually nothing important anyway. Bit like that crate of 51st century mineral water that landed in Penarth last week. Let the New Year's Eve revellers deal with the alien flotsam and jetsam themselves. Captain Jack deserves a bit of Ianto time.

"Okay, you can stop now, but keep your eyes and mouth shut or there'll be trouble."

Jack hears a key turn in a lock, and tingles run down his spine. The door opens smoothly, and a gust of warm, spicy air, with just a hint of paraffin, envelops them. He hears Ianto chuckle softly as he steps forward, pulling Jack along like a small child. There's soft carpet underfoot, and the laughter doesn't echo, but sounds warm; intimate and inviting. Ianto moves away, and judging by the sounds is shutting the door and then flicking some switches. Then both his hands are taken hold of, and he's led forward another four steps. He feels hands push down his braces, unstrap his Vortex Manipulator, unbutton his shirt and pull it off his arms. Neither resisting nor helping, Jack lets himself be undressed, relishing every feather-light brush of cool fingers against his burning skin.

"I see you're enjoying yourself," Ianto murmurs as he gets to work on the buttons of his fly.

Jack moans as those fingers stroke his erection through the thick cotton of his trousers. The fingers still, their pressure almost unbearable for Jack, and he bites his lip in an effort to stifle any further the hands move again, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he's divested of trousers, underpants, socks and boots. The air in the room is warm enough to feel comfortable naked, without making him unduly sweaty. Ianto really does think of everything.

"Now, I want you to raise your arms in front of you, that's it, keep them there, wrists together." There's a swish of silk, that unmistakable sound of Ianto pulling off his tie. A noise Jack associates with so many good things. A noise that makes his cock twitch with excitement. Then the silk loops round his wrists, deft fingers tying it in a firm yet comfortable knot. He's trembling now, delicious shivers of anticipation running through his body and threatening to knock him off balance.

"Jack, do you trust me?" Ianto sounds a little unsure of himself, so Jack nods vigorously in response. Of course he does. There's no way he'd be here right now if he didn't.

"You can speak."

He finds he needs to swallow a few times before the words will come out. His mouth is drier than the deserts of Boeshane.

"I trust you, Ianto."

"Okay, that's good. I'm going to ask you to do something now, and I want you to trust me that it'll be fine. You'll enjoy it, okay?"

"Uh, okay," he croaks; apprehensive, but in a good way. He doubts that there's anything Ianto could do to him that he hasn't done a thousand times before. Although, come to think of it, the lad did have a few surprises up his sleeve from time to time. Rather pleasant ones at that. He had to give him top marks for creativity.

"Right then, I want you to raise your arms above your head," Ianto's voice is soft and neutral, but Jack still feels a shudder of fear. He raises them, however, and does his best to keep the panic at bay when his hand hits something, setting off a jangling of chains. His heart races, and a cool hand comes to rest on his chest, another stroking his cheek.

"Shhhh, it'll be fine, I promise. You only have to say if it's too much and we'll stop, okay?"

He nods again, letting the slow motion of those hands soothe him. Mesmerised by their downward trajectory, gasping as they brush against his cock - still hard, thank god - and then carry on down his legs, before circling his ankles and moving up the back of his calves. The hypnotic circles reach his buttocks, and there's an appreciative murmur and a gentle squeeze, before those hands move up again, over the muscles of his back, up the sides of his arms, right up to his wrists so that Ianto's whole body presses against him, their cheeks touching. He does his best to concentrate on the insistent pressure of Ianto's erection against his; anything to distract him from the jangling chains and the sensation of tightening around his wrists. He will not give in. He will not think about the last time he was suspended like this. This is different. This is Ianto. Ianto won't hurt him. Not unless he begs him to, anyway.

Finally there's a satisfied grunt as Ianto finishes his work, and Jack releases the tension in his arms, finding the silk binding still comfortable. His wrists are tied up to something, which is a horribly familiar sensation despite all the months that have elapsed since that terrible year. Best not to think about that, though. Best to lose himself in the hot breath on his cheek, the lips touching his, the soft sucking on his lower lip, the tongue pushing it's way into his mouth, the stubble rasping against his chin as the kiss deepens. Those hands stroking his back, pulling him closer. Ianto's body heat evident even through the layers of clothing, his desire obvious as their hips grind together. He moans into the kiss, forgetting everything but Ianto and how amazing he makes him feel.

Eventually Ianto pulls back, leaving Jack panting heavily and decidedly weak at the knees.

"So, how are you feeling?" Ianto's tone is teasing as he strokes Jack's dick. "Think you can cope with a little game? Just something to get you back into the swing of things?"

"I think so. Yeah, I'll be alright."

"Okay then. You can open your eyes."

It takes a moment to adjust to the brightness, even though the room would probably seem quite dim if entered with open eyes. The first thing he sees is Ianto, rolling his sleeves up, unbuttoning the top of his shirt and smiling in a decidedly bashful manner.

"So, what do you think? I've tried to make the place cosy. Less S&M dungeon, more classy brothel." And he actually blushes as he says this, making Jack want to reach out and pull him into a hug.

He looks around. They're in one of the smaller storage rooms, about twenty foot square. It doesn't feel as dank and chilly as it should because of the paraffin heater belching out it's noxious fumes in the corner. A patchwork assortment of colourful rugs covers most of the concrete floor, and a similar array of richly coloured fabrics lines the damp stone walls. The lighting comes from strings of fairy lights suspended from the ceiling. It looks like Ianto's transplanted the contents of one of Cardiff's hippy shops into a basement; which, come to think of it, must be exactly what he's done. The bohemian aesthetic is slightly at odds with the bed, however. Nothing wrong with the brass bedstead, per se. It's the leather cuffs chained to the posts that make Jack raise his eyebrows. And then he spots some similar cuffs hanging at strategic points on the wall before him. He can't help but chuckle. How on earth has Ianto managed to set all of this up without him noticing?

"Ianto, have you ever set foot in a brothel? 'Cause I've been in loads, all over the galaxy, but never one quite like this. Hey, don't worry," he adds hastily, as Ianto's face falls, "I love it! It's, er, just unique. Like you," he grins.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to make it nice for you, to help you relax," Ianto grins back, before stepping towards him and running his fingers up Jack's arms again. Looking up, Jack notices for the first time that the tie is only looped once through the cuffs, and the hitch looks easy to release quickly. Ianto's voice deepens. "I reckon it's about time you got over your issues with the restraints. I've been wanting to do this to you for ages."

Jack's breath catches, and he stares into Ianto's eyes, trying to fathom how deep his feelings run. Whether his own are met with the same intensity. It's hard to believe otherwise when Ianto looks at him like that.

"You should have said," he mutters, not trusting his voice to stay under control.

"I'm saying it now." Ianto turns away and walks to a low table, picking something up and returning. It's the crowns. He'd forgotten all about them in the excitement, but now he recalls Ianto's first request this morning - asking him to program them into master and slave units again – before sucking him off so exquisitely he was quite distracted.

"We'd better hope this is the right way round," Ianto places one on his own head, before crowning Jack with the other. "Mmmm, yes, I think it is. I've been practising. A lot," he smirks.

"Oh, have you indeed?"

"Yeah, well, you said I needed to. Why else did you think I've been going home without you every night?"

"So you've been off masturbating yourself stupid with top quality alien tech, leaving me all on my own?" The idea of it! God, it's making him even harder, though.

"You've always got Myfanwy and Janet for company."

"Yeah, well. They're not as much fun as you are."

"I'll make it up to you right now."

"You'd better." Jack teases.

"Oh, I will. Now," and Ianto's voice suddenly changes tone, businesslike when it had been warm and syrupy. "You need to wear this blindfold, well, okay, tie, and I'm going to play a little game with you."

The second tie blots out his vision quite effectively, as Ianto folds up a handkerchief to stop him peeking under the edge. He smiles ruefully; Ianto knows him far too well.

"Right, this is what's going to happen. You'll get five minutes to tell me what you think I'm using to stroke you with. If you get it right, you get to choose where I'll use my tongue for the next five minutes. If you don't manage to guess, then I'll choose. You'll have to choose a different body part each time. Oh yes, and I'll be looping the stroking but not the licking. Can't have you coming too quickly. In fact, you are not given permission to come until next year, and if you want me to fuck you then you'd better hold on. Is that clear?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so." Thinking is actually proving quite difficult, as the rules of Ianto's little game have reduced his brain to mush. Okay, so the objective is not to come. Right, well, Jack does have legendary self-restraint. The only thing is, Ianto seems to know all the most effective ways to undermine it. He's taught him far too well.

"I'll make it a bit easier for you and give you a clue. They're all things I found in my flat."

"Got it. Okay." That is some help, as Ianto's minimal approach to décor and possessions doesn't allow for much clutter. "Er, how long have we got till midnight?"

"It's only fifty-two minutes. I'm sure you can manage it. So, that's five minutes, and counting," followed by that little click that sends his pulse racing whenever he hears it.

The first touch, when it finally comes, is so light as to be almost imperceptible. Something is gliding up the outside of his right calf. Slowly inching it's way up, raising goosebumps on his thigh, up his flank, over the ribs, making him more and more flustered the closer it gets to his armpit. Focus on it, not the sensation. Is that a sound? A slight rustling? Whatever it is, it's not cold, not too hard, flexible...

"Ah, tissue paper? Paper? Er... oh god!" And he can't stop himself giggling as the mystery object ruffles through the hair under his arm. But there's that rustling again, and as it nears his ear the sound is clearer. "Plastic, something plastic, erm... bubble wrap?"

"Good guess!" Ianto sounds genuinely impressed. "Okay, that was in two minutes, forty five seconds. So, Jack, you'd better choose where you want me."

Oh god. He can think of various places he wants that clever tongue, but as the object is to stay in control, well...

"My back. You can lick my back." Yes, that's a good choice. Not too many nerve cells there.

But even there, the glide of wet tongue over hot skin is tantalising, and there's that damn bubble wrap doing it's maddeningly slow journey up his body. He copes with the slow minutes by trying to think of what's sitting in his in-tray. Always a passion killer, that one. Still, when Ianto moans like that - quite deliberately, the teasing minx - all thoughts of the Inland Revenue fly from his mind. Broad swipes of Ianto's tongue paint moist stripes across his back, his skin tingling as the moisture evaporates. He screws his eyes shut, bites down on his lip, tries not to imagine that tongue sliding down between his cheeks...

He heaves a huge sigh of relief when the stopwatch clicks again, and gratefully gulps from the water bottle Ianto holds to his lips. He's careless, cool droplets running down his chin and splashing onto his burning erection, making him shudder and whimper. But then there's something tickling his left ankle, something soft and puffy and barely there. He knows this one, he's sure. Felt it before. He recites a litany of textiles as the sensation travels up his body, eventually hitting on the right answer, just as the cotton wool ball is beginning it's journey back down his arm.

"My calves. Just there. Definitely not the backs of my knees, though."

And the licking is bearable, just about, although the phantom stroking makes it quite a challenge to keep his mind focused on the Home office memo he received earlier.

The next couple of teases are fairly straightforward, and Jack suspects Ianto of deliberately making it easy for him. The rough scratchy thing moving up the back of his leg could only be a pan scourer, and then there's that bristly sensation that he eventually identifies as Ianto's clothes brush, but not until it reaches his arse, making him squirm and wriggle against his bonds.

Oh fuck. He's running out of safe places to be licked. He chooses his neck, and manages to shut out as much as possible by mentally running through a list of every planet he visited during his stint as a Time Agent. He probably misses a few out, and he's fairly sure he repeats one when Ianto sucks on his pulse point, but he gets through it somehow.

By now his brain is addled by the ghostly strokes, all running up his body at slightly different rates. And when the new one starts, up the front of his left leg, it's almost impossible to focus on it. He shouts out random suggestions, some of which make Ianto chuckle, but even when the pressure starts to circle round his nipple he's no closer to guessing. There's a tsking sound as Ianto finally clicks the stopwatch, ending his torment.

"Hmmm, seems like it's my turn to choose this time."

"Is it midnight yet? Surely it's gotta be?"

"You'll know when it's midnight, Jack. I've made sure of it."

Ianto's voice is coming from lower down, and he starts to tremble as he guesses what's about to happen. He feels his leg being lifted and his thigh placed over Ianto's shoulder. The licking begins on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Fuck, fuck, fuck... His balls feel like they're going to explode, and he bites down so hard on his lip that his mouth fills with a coppery tang. Time to try and remember all the verses to the National Anthem, including that weird one that never gets sung any more.

Ianto nuzzles into the crease where his thigh meets his body.

Jack loses the thread of patriotic dogma, and finds himself imagining the Queen and Prince Philip in bed together. Not good, even if he makes them their current ages. With a supreme effort of willpower he turns his thoughts to Margaret Thatcher shafting the Welsh coal industry, and feels his frenzied panting start to subside. But then Ianto licks his balls, sucking one into his mouth and he's suddenly remembering all the fantastic sex he had with angry, dark-haired coal miners and nearly comes on the spot.

"Ahhhh, can't last... Ianto! Stop, please!"

Ianto's laughter puffs against his cock, shaking his leg and making it tremble even more violently.

"It's okay, Jack. You've made it through another five minutes."

Jack heaves a huge sigh of relief, and doesn't even bother trying to guess the next object. Instead, he loses himself in reciting the Time Agents Code, a set of such complex and paradoxical dictums that they take every last bit of his remaining brain power to piece together. He barely notices when the loop closes, too absorbed in trying to remember the exact wording of the rule about introducing yourself to your ancestors, when his concentration is rudely broken by a pair of hands parting his buttocks and a warm, wet pressure right on his entrance.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"

And then a beeping sounds. Rift alarm? Surely not. Jack is only aware of the delicious circling of Ianto's tongue, the overwhelming desire to be fucked raw, to spill himself all over the floor with Ianto inside of him. If he can only hold on till midnight...

"HappyNewYear?" he yells, a small part of his brain still functioning well enough to make a hopeful guess.

And Ianto pulls back, chuckling again and Jack senses him move away. The alarm shuts off. He is given more water. The tip of his cock is pinched firmly, helping to calm him down. Hands move behind his head and the world is revealed again. Ianto's sparkling eyes fixing him with a look of admiration and affection.

"Happy New Year," Ianto responds, punctuating each word with a soft kiss.

And then Ianto's pulling the rest of his clothes off, the heat of lust evident in the way he lets them fall crumpled to the floor, the dark pits of his eyes, the jutting of his cock. Ianto moves closer, runs his hands up Jack's arms, now screaming with the pain of being held up for so long.

"Could you cope with the cuffs, do you think? Just for a little while. I want to fuck you like this, but I don't think my tie will take the strain." His voice rough, deep, trembling slightly.

And Jack just nods, because how can he refuse Ianto anything when he looks at him like that? And so he ignores the pain as the tie is removed and the cuffs strapped around his wrists, flexes his arms to reassure himself he still has the strength for this, and relaxes himself when he feels Ianto's fingers ready him.

Then he's breached, Ianto's hot, hard length filling him slowly, deliberately, and he strains upwards, pulling on the chains to lift up and then sink down, impaling himself fully. He'd forgotten how bloody difficult this was to do, but worth it. Oh, so worth it when he lets himself drop down as Ianto pushes up. Feel his lover's hot breath against his back, his strong hands bruising his hips, his groans vibrating through him as his thrusting grows more urgent. Jack has to hold on, fight back his own orgasm until Ianto has had his pleasure and it won't matter if his arms give way. Concentrating on the agony in his muscles as he pulls upwards, waiting for Ianto...

And as Ianto's movements grow jerky, and he shouts something garbled, Jack lets himself fall one last time, before vision and hearing dissolve into white. His body convulses, the fire pulsing through him; leaving him spent, breathless, dangling. And then arms release his wrists, encircle him, remove the crown, soothe him. But it still feels like something is about to burst inside him. Something needs to get out before it consumes him.

So he says it.

Fuck the consequences. This man is worth it.

*********

Ianto releases Jack's wrists from the cuffs, hugging him close as he collapses, arms hanging limp after their ordeal. Lifts the crowns off both their heads. Raising his lover's hands up, he kisses the chafed skin, tongue darting out to soothe the sore patches. Jack stirs against his shoulder, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like... No, he must have misheard. Couldn't be that.

"Come on, let's get you lying down," Ianto mutters into Jack's hair, pulling him over towards the bed. "God, put some effort into it, will you? You're like a sack of spuds, you great lump."

"Mmmm... Your fault. Wore me out."

They collapse onto the bed together, a tangle of sweaty limbs and sated flesh. Ianto finds himself lying on top of Jack, staring down into smiling blue eyes, heavy lidded but still twinkling.

"Hey there, gorgeous. That was incredible."

Ianto grins, nuzzling into Jack's neck to hide his blush.

"It was my pleasure," he mumbles into Jack's ear, then nips at the lobe, making him chuckle and move his head away.

But then hands are lifting his head up, and he has to look into those eyes, staring with such a naked intensity that he's mesmerised.

"Thank you, Ianto." The words are soft, tender. "I didn't think I'd ever be able to enjoy that again. Not after what happened... I never told you what he did to me. What he made me watch, made me choose..."

Jack's body shudders underneath him, and Ianto strokes his cheek, shushing him.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me. Not sure I really want to know, anyway." He carries on stroking, planting a kiss on the end of Jack's nose which makes him wrinkle it up and smile again.

"What kept me going, though, through all of it, was the thought of getting back to you."

Ianto starts at this, probing those ancient eyes for the truth of it. What he sees there makes him blush again and he moves his gaze to Jack's lips, watching the words as they spill out. He could shut him up with a kiss, but despite the embarrassment he wants to hear more.

"I used to hang there, imagining all the things we could do together when I got back."

"I bet you did, you filthy pervert."

Jack leers, but then his face settles down into something more solemn.

"Not only those sorts of fantasies. Just doing stuff. You know, hanging out, chatting, walking, working. Somehow, even after he... Well, I never lost hope. Always thought there'd be a way." There's a wry chuckle. "What's the use in hanging out with Time Lords, anyway, if they can't reset time for you once in a while?"

Jack smiles enigmatically, and Ianto is aware of something inside him shifting, melting. Parts of him that he thought he'd locked away for good. It's warm, whatever it is that Jack's words have released. Heating him inside and making him want to kiss him and stroke him and say all sorts of stupid things he'll probably end up regretting. He moves his gaze to Jack's neck, tracing lazy spirals over his skin with his fingers. Not wanting to open his mouth in case he says it, then discovers he's mistaken about Jack's meaning.

"What you just said," he eventually begins, choosing his words with care, "If you really mean that..."

"What?" Jack prompts. "You know I mean it, don't you?"

"Then, for every week you manage to convince me that it's true, you'll earn yourself an evening in here."

Jack's eyes widen and a cheeky smile quirks his lips and eyebrows.

"That's my reward is it? I pledge my undying love and you threaten me with torture? You're a cruel man, Ianto Jones. A demon in disguise."

That word again. The one he thought he heard him mutter earlier. Fuck, oh fuck. Can he take him seriously? He searches Jack's eyes for the truth, astonished by what he finds there. Smiling tremulously as the realisation dawns.

And then there's a flurry of limbs and he's pinned under Jack, that superhuman recovery time beating him yet again.

"Well, two can play at that game. I think I noticed some rather handy restraints somewhere just around here..."

"No, you can't do that in here." Putting every last ounce of strength into his voice.

"Oh? And why not, exactly?"

"This is my room. I'm in charge within these four walls. What I say, goes."

"I see. And what do you say, then, Mr Jones?" Jack's voice grows sultry and his hands start to massage Ianto's arms, reminding him that his lover hasn't had a chance to pleasure him properly since Boxing Day.

"I say... Ahhh.... Oh, that's good. Oh, fuck it! Go on then. Do what you will."

"I intend to start the New Year the way I mean it to go on. Loving you."

And Ianto melts, letting Jack coax him to new heights of pleasure. Those words making every kiss sweeter, every touch more sensuous, every scratch and bite that much more exciting.

Who needs an army of lovers, when you've got one Jack Harkness?

_Finis._


End file.
